Dragon Charmer
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: A series of Charlie/Fleur AUs for the OTP AU competition. /Complete/
1. Phone Sex Failure

**Word Count:** 488

 **Written For:  
** \- OTP AU! Competition (Wrong Number!AU)  
\- 'Can You Do It?' AU Extravaganza (Wrong Number!AU)

* * *

 _Ring, Ring!_

Charlie groaned and rolled onto his side, squinting at the clock on his bedside table. In the dim light, he could read that it was three thirty in the morning.

 _Ring, Ring!_

The large telephone on shook as it rung loudly, and Charlie resisted the urge to slam the pillow over his head to block out the sound. Living with Bill and Fleur at Shell Cottage was a _nightmare,_ especially since Bill had insisted they have these ridiculous things wired up all over the house. Apparently it was much more convenient when one needed to speak to another immediately.

What could possibly be so important at three in the morning?

 _Ring, Ring!_

"Oh, Merlin," Charlie grumbled, inwardly cursing his older brother. Fleur was currently spending time with her family in France, so it was just Bill and Charlie at Shell Cottage for the week. Whoever was ringing most likely wanted Bill or Fleur, yet they had rang the extension to the guest bedroom.

 _Ring, Ring!_

"I'm answering it!" Charlie snapped, and he fumbled awkwardly with the receiver before pulling it to his ear. "Hello?"

" _Bonsoir,_ William," a familiar, sultry voice purred down the telephone. Charlie resisted the urge to flinch—it always shocked him when he used the telephone. How someone could sound like they were right next to him when in reality they were over an ocean was unfathomable. "I 'ave 'ad a few glasses of crème de menthe, and I miss my 'usband."

Charlie remained silent, blinking into the darkness. Fleur was slurring heavily, clearly extremely drunk. He tried to suppress a grin—he hadn't witnessed her drunk since her wedding, when she had made to kiss him on the cheek but accidentally landed a sloppy one straight on his lips.

"I'm in 'ze Marriot 'otel," she went on. "You remember when we spent the night at this 'otel? When you got in 'ze shower with nothing but my lace..." Charlie put his hand over the receiver, cringing. He didn't need to imagine his older brother in that way. He waited about ten seconds, and tentatively placed the receiver back to his ear again. "I am wearing 'zat ivory lace lingerie right now."

A welcome image flooded Charlie's mind, and he leaned further back into the pillows. He knew it was wrong—this was Bill's wife—but it wasn't like he was actually doing anything, right? It wasn't like Fleur knew it wasn't Bill that she was talking to. And anyway, Charlie was pretty confident that Fleur wouldn't remember a single detail of her telephone conversation with Charlie.

"Do you remember when you tried it on, Bill? Remember, 'ow funny it was when your—"

"—oh, Merlin," cursed Charlie, pulling the receiver away once again. What was up with Fleur's sex talk? He'd had enough. "You've got the wrong number, Fleur. You've rang the wrong extension!"

Silence filled the line, and then it went dead.


	2. A Parisian Egg Hunt

**Word Count:** 1,355  
 **Written For:  
** \- The OTP AU Round 2: Mafia!AU

* * *

 _ **ii  
**_ _ **A Parisian Egg Hunt**_

"Meeting adjourned," Apolline Delacour finalised grimly, before standing up from the long wooden table in the cellar of their estate. The Muggles seated around them clambered to their feet, ready to head out of the door.

"Oh, Madame," a female voice squeaked eagerly. "There's just one more thing."

"What is 'eet, Soldier?" barked Apolline impatiently, sitting back down. The Muggles also fell to their seats quickly, as was polite.

The Muggles weren't actual soldiers. It was just a term given to them within the Parisian Mafia, which was run by Apolline. They were the lowest part of the Mafia, and they had no idea of the magical quality that Apolline and her daughters truly held.

"There was some guy hanging around the Quarter today," the soldier began, bowing her head as Apolline glared at her. "He said he was trying to sell...ah...what was it, Nate?" she asked the man next to her.

"I 'aven't got all day!" barked Apolline.

"Dragon's Egg," the woman continued quickly. "He said he was...dealing Dragon's Egg. I've never heard of that before...I wasn't sure if it was some kind of narcotic..."

Apolline's mouth set into a hard line. "You may leave," she dismissed, and the Muggles hurriedly milled out of the cellar.

" _Dragon's Egg,"_ repeated the young woman who was sitting to the left of Apolline. She was her oldest daughter, Fleur. "There is no drug on 'ze black market called _Dragon's Egg._ "

"The dealer isn't selling drugs, idiot girl," Apolline chastised, and slapped her daughter up the side of her head. "He 'as a _real_ dragon egg."

Fleur leaned back in her chair, looking quite mystified. " _Merde_. Are...are you interested in taking 'ze egg, _Maman?_ "

"Of course I am! But I cannot send a solider. There are no witches or wizards amongst them." Something seemed to click in her head, as she snapped her fingers. "I will send Gabrielle."

"No, _Maman!"_ Fleur gasped involuntarily. She hated it when her mother insisted on dragging Gabrielle into the Mafia's business, as she tried to keep her little sister out of danger as much as possible. At the moment, Gabrielle was studying at a college of magical arts in Paris, and Fleur wanted her to remain focused on her studies. "Send me. I will go and meet 'ze dealer."

"Fleur," scoffed Apolline. "You are training to be _me,_ the mother of our little family. You are 'ze Underboss of Paris. I cannot 'ave you being seen in 'ze Quarter."

The Quarter was a tiny, underground tavern beneath a low rent pub in the centre of Paris. No one who had any self respect ventured into such a dismal place, so it remained the central hub of all Black Market trading in Paris. Fleur had only visited a handful of times, as Apolline tried to keep her and Gabrielle out of such places. With their astonishing good looks and silvery blonde hair, the Delacour women were often easily recognised—and as their reputation preceded them, it was best that the stayed out of the public eye.

"I will take my cloak," Fleur persisted. "I will be careful. I will make sure 'zat no one sees me."

"'Eet is not worth it."

"But you would send Gabrielle?" pressed Fleur, raising an eyebrow.

"Gabrielle is not going to be 'ze Boss!" snarled Apolline.

"She still matters! It is still dangerous for 'er!" Fleur jumped to her feet and folded her arms across her chest. "I am going to meet 'ze dealer. And 'zat is final."

oOo

Fleur sat with her hood pulled over her face on a table in the far corner of the Quarter. She was clutching a grubby piece of paper with only a few words scrawled on it— _'red hair, tall, blue eyes.'_ It was a brief description of the man with the Dragon Egg.

Someone cleared their throat loudly beside Fleur, and she flinched involuntarily, looking up at the intruder. He was a tall, grinning man wearing Muggle clothing and a suspiciously large rucksack on his back. His scruffy hair was a bright shade of orange and his blue eyes twinkled. He looked like a sore thumb in the middle of the Quarter.

"Are you my contact?" he asked loudly, and several shifty Muggles jerked their head in his direction. Fleur pulled her hood further over her face and nodded. The man sat down opposite her, and pulled his rucksack onto the table, ready to unzip it.

"Wait," hissed Fleur, allowing a glimmer of her face to be exposed. "What are you doing? You cannot open 'zat 'ere."

The man blinked over at her, and slowly pulled his hands away from the bag. "Okay...well, I suppose..." he paused, looking briefly at his fingernails. "If you want it, you can have it. I have a sum of money that I can give you for taking it."

Fleur narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you mean? I thought you wanted us to buy 'eet."

He lowered his voice and leant further across the table. "I want the egg off my hands until it's hatched," he said. "Then I'll come back and take it to the Dragon Sanctuary where I work in Romania."

Fleur cocked an eyebrow across at the man. "Why do you think I 'ave time to babysit your dragon egg? Why can yo not look after it yourself?"

He pulled a handful of galleons from his pocket and showed Fleur them. "I'm willing to pay generously in order for my business not to be shared with you," his teeth glimmered as he grinned, and Fleur noticed how good looking he was—in a rugged, scruffy kind of way.

"'Ow many weeks until 'eet is 'atched?" Fleur asked, though she was already regretting asking. The Parisian Mafia dealt only in Class A drugs and weapons - they didn't look after Class XXXXX magical creatures. They only made dealings with Muggles who wanted drugs. It was very rare that a witch or a wizard would wish to buy anything from them, let alone sell anything.

Her mother was going to go _insane_ when she realised that Fleur had accepted this man's ridiculous suggestion to give the egg to them, with interest, until it was born.

"No," she continued quickly, before the man could reply. "No, I'm sorry. Why do you even think 'zat we would do 'zat for you? Do you even know who we are?" she asked haughtily.

His eyes widened considerably. "Well...I heard that you, the Delacours - were in possession of a large barn in rural France, where you look after rescued Abraxan horses. I figured such a job must come with a kind nature towards magical creatures. Which led me to think that you would take the utmost care with a dragon egg."

Fleur seemed to melt in her seat as he spoke. This man didn't care about money or drugs or weapons—the things that ran around her head on a daily basis, and the be all and end all of what she had to deal with. All he cared about was the safety of the egg.

She pursed her lips together tightly. Her hands were tied.

"Fine," she snapped, pulling the rucksack towards her. "I will look after 'eet. I will contact you when 'eet is born."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," he gushed, and held out his hand with the galleons. Fleur shook her head. "Keep your money," she muttered, and stood up.

"What? No, take it."

"I am not going to tell _Maman_ 'zat I 'ave done this for you," Fleur hissed, pulling the rucksack onto her back. "So I do not need your money."

"You're a good person," he said, stuffing the galleons into his pocket. "My name is Charlie Weasley," he told her, holding his hand out for her to shake. Fleur stared at his outstretched palm, but did not shake it.

" _Enchantée,"_ she murmured.

"Are you going to tell me your name?"

Now it was Fleur's turn to smile as she climbed up from her seat. "Maybe next time."


	3. Stop the Wedding

**Stop the Wedding**

 **Word Count:** 620 **  
** **Written For:  
** **-** The OTP AU Competition: Stopping a Wedding!AU

oOo

"Charlie, don't do this," Tonks hissed. Charlie was standing outside the great marquee that was in the middle of the Burrow's garden, with his childhood sweetheart by his side. Tonks had a ring on her finger these days, but it wasn't her that he had his eye on. No, it was the girl who stood inside the marquee—with a bare wedding finger thus far, but it wouldn't be that way for long.

Not unless he burst in and did something about it.

He couldn't bear the fact that Fleur Delacour was about to marry his older brother, and he knew that she felt the same. However, she was far too proud to admit it, and he'd been far too afraid of his own feelings to do anything about it before now. But if Bill married Fleur, then that would be the end of it. He would be forced to accept that she had signed her heart away to Bill, and there would be nothing he could do about it.

"I have too, Tonks," he whispered mournfully, almost feeling his heart breaking from the sinful act that he was about to commit.

Bill would never speak to him again. His mother would be mortified, and his father just extremely disappointed. Fleur's parents would be so angry—they had paid out galleons for the wedding preparation, and it was all going to go to shit. That is, if Fleur accepted what he was going to do. But he had no other choice. He loved her more than life itself.

The voice of the vicar inside the marquee grew louder. "...If any of you present has any reason as to why these two should not be bound in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Charlie burst into the tent, rushing dramatically into the blue-carpeted aisle. "Stop the wedding!" he cried, and the faces of every guest spun around to face him. True to how Charlie had imagined, Molly's face fell and grew red with anger or embarrassment—he couldn't tell which.

Bill and Fleur were the last to twist their heads to stare at him. Bill looked appalled, his scarred face marred with shock. Fleur, on the other hand, looked wonderful.

Charlie hadn't seen her for weeks, and he had almost forgotten how beautiful she was. Her pale blonde hair was done up in an elaborate plaited fashion, with slight wisps framing her heart shaped face. Her blue eyes gazed at him widely, and he saw her bite into her plush pink bottom lip. She was clutching a bouquet of ice-blue and white roses at her bosom, and was wearing an ivory, feathered wedding gown. She looked perfect.

He regretted what he had done as soon as the words had left his mouth.

"Yes, boy?" the vicar demanded to know, looking at Charlie inquisitively. "What do you have to say?"

"Charlie, don't!" Molly cried, but Charlie ignored his mother and began walking towards Bill and Fleur.

"Please don't do this," he said softly to Fleur as he reached the podium where they stood. "If you're marrying him just because you feel like you have to...you don't. I love you."

"Charlie, what are you doing?" Bill asked, his voice quiet. Charlie turned to face his big brother.

"I'm so sorry, Bill," he apologised. "But I've loved Fleur since the moment I laid eyes on her."

There was a long, deafening silence. Charlie continued to stare at Bill as his face grew harder, and then the unimaginable happened.

Bill pulled back his fist, and punched Charlie square in the face.

Everything went dark.


	4. Class Dismissed

**Class Dismissed**

 **Word Count:** 886

 **Written For:**

\- OTP AU Competition: Teacher/Professor AU

\- Hogwarts Houses Challenges - Drabble Club, prompts: (dialogue) "We'll trade, how about that? I give you the book, and you give me a kiss."

\- November Event: Male Appreciation - L2 Character: Charlie Weasley

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank, Sex and the City Prompts: (word) Unmarried, (word) Womaniser, "I would never sleep with a married man." / "What makes you think you haven't? Wedding rings come off, you know."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank, Personality Types: Self-confident, Kind

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank, Friends Prompts: (object) Watch

* * *

Fleur rolled her eyes expressively at the clock, and lowered her head down onto the desk in front of her. She was sitting in a small back room of the Burrow, where two desks and chairs had been set up.

Recently, Fleur had expressed a desire to return to France for a few months to set up a sanctuary for Abraxan Winged Horses. However, she wasn't able to do that just yet. During her education at Beauxbatons, she never completed an O.W.L in Care of Magical Creatures; a required examination if she wished to care for magical creatures. Luckily for her, her husband's brother had excelled in Care of Magical Creatures, and had offered to tutor her until she completed her O.W.L.

It was only the fifth lesson, and Charlie Weasley was late again.

Within a few moments, she heard footsteps echoing up the stairs, and then the door burst open. Standing there in his usual rugged demeanour, clutching an ominous, furry green book, was Charlie. He grinned cheekily at Fleur, as he often did, and headed into the makeshift classroom, sitting at the desk that was positioned opposite Fleur's. He placed the book down, and Fleur noticed that its clasp had a row of sharp teeth, and it appeared to be emitting a low growl. Charlie had forced the book closed with a belt. That could mean nothing good.

"What is 'zat?" Fleur demanded to know, glaring at the book. "'Eet does not look like an educational book."

"I'll be telling you about Flobberworms today," Charlie spoke over Fleur, his eyes glittering. She pursed her lips and resisted the urge to roll her eyes—even though Charlie was only a few years older than her, and this was an entirely informal tutoring session, he still enjoyed maintaining a Professor image. "Get ready to make some notes."

"Flobberworms?" Fleur spat, folding her arms across her chest. "I do not need to know about _Flobberworms._ I am going to work with magnificent Abraxan 'orses, not _Flobberworms!"_

"Flobberworms will come up in your exam, Fleur," Charlie continued. He began to deftly stroke the spine of the monstrous looking book, and then released the belt. Fleur expected it to snap at him with it's clasp of teeth, but instead it just fell open calmly. "The Flobberworm is a ten-inch, toothless brown worm which mainly eats cabbage—"

"—I do not believe 'zat you're reading about worms from _'zat_ book," Fleur interrupted, reaching across the desk to grab the book. Charlie yanked it out of the way, but he was smirking. "Let me see."

"No, sit back down," he ordered, but his tone was jokey. She knew he wasn't really trying to act demanding; he was just continuing to playing the role of the teacher.

"Give it to me!" she ordered.

Charlie clutched the book to his chest, and leaned back on his chair. "We'll trade, how about that? I give you the book, and you give me a kiss."

Fleur froze, her hand outstretched. Her face slowly flushed from a mild pink to plum red. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard," Charlie was still smirking mischievously.

Fleur pressed her lips together so much that they almost disappeared into her mouth. She stared at Charlie unblinkingly, determined to work out what he was thinking. She knew that he was a kind, harmless guy, but he was also filled with the kind of deluded self-confidence that often allowed him to get whatever he wanted. He was unmarried and a terrible womaniser, and he clearly didn't seem to think that flirting with his brother's girlfriend—soon to be wife—was that big of a deal.

Her eyes flickered to his hands as he checked the battered gold watch on his wrist, almost sarcastically. "We've already wasted about ten minutes of the lesson," he exclaimed in a bored tone.

"I am not going to do that!" Fleur tried to hiss, but her voice came out in a kind of embarrassed strangle.

"Oh, come on. It's not like I'm going to sleep with you. I would never sleep with a married woman."

"What makes you think 'zat you 'aven't?" Fleur replied smartly. "Wedding rings come off, you know."

Charlie guffawed in response. "Come on. One little kiss, before you truly sign your life away to Bill."

Fleur stood up and slowly moved around the desk, so that she was standing up in front of Charlie's. She pressed her hands to the wood and leaned forward, so that her face was just inches away from his.

His eyelids slid halfway over his eyeballs, and his mouth fell open. She could feel his breath on her lips.

Just as her mouth was lightly grazing against his, she opened her mouth to speak. "Not in your lifetime," she murmured, before smirking and rearing back up. She grabbed her handbag from the back of her chair, and seized the door-handle.

It was Charlie's turn to flush now, and do his best to mask the look of utter mortification that was on his face. "Tease," he muttered angrily, leaning forward and folding his arms over his groin, as if to hide something that was going on down there. This filled Fleur with even more triumph.

"Class dismissed," she snickered, and slipped out of the classroom.


	5. All Things Crimson

**All Things Crimson**

 **Word Count:** 670

 **Written For:**

\- OTP AU Competition Round 5: You accidentally knock over a lingerie stand in the store AU

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank - Sex and the City Prompts: (action) Dropping handbag and having someone else pick up the contents, including condoms, (dialogue) "How the hell did we get into this mess?"

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank - True Blood dialogue prompts: (dialogue) "I'm just going to quietly slip into a coma."

\- Gringotts Prompt Bank - Feelings & Emotions: (word) Delighted (word) Playful, (word) (word) Embarrassed, (word) Admiration

* * *

Fleur circled the various clothing aisles in the Muggle department store that she worked in on weekends. Sunday was the most boring day to be working—very few people came in, and she spent the majority of her time doing laps around the shop floor just to keep the blood moving in her legs.

However, this Sunday was particularly interesting. For the last half an hour, she had spotted a familiar man hovering around the perfume stands, pretending to be extremely interested in a large bottle of _Valentino_ , when she knew perfectly well that he was watching her. Whenever she moved to a different part of the store, he would amble after her and commence hovering around the nearest display.

It was Charlie Weasley, a man whom she had only met once when she used to date his brother, Bill. She had known at the time that Charlie had taken a shine to her—which wasn't unusual She often had men proclaiming their admiration for her, due to her Veela heritage. But after she and Bill split up, she never imagined she would see any of his brothers or sister again. In fact, she had paid absolutely no thought to Charlie, until now.

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. As she did so, she caught sight of the clock a few yards away from her, and her stomach did a little pirouette. It was home-time.

She dashed through the lingerie section to the staff room, grabbed her belongings, waved goodbye to her workmates, and was out of the staff area in a flash. As soon as she appeared back in the department store, she spotted Charlie immediately. He was shuffling around the lingerie section awkwardly, and his eyes landed on her.

He grabbed the nearest thing to him, to try and appear as though he was just looking at the display. The display he grabbed hold of, however, was a set of raunchy, scarlet underwear. He recoiled upon realising what he was clutching, and bumped into a lingerie display behind him, sending it crashing to the ground. Knickers, bras and stockings seemed to explode around him, as many other displays were knocked over like dominoes.

" _Merde,_ " Fleur muttered, trying to suppress the urge to laugh at Charlie's expense.

"Well, I'm just going to quietly slip into a coma," he commented, his face flushing red. She hurried over, trying to reach for the toppled display nearest to him, but she tripped over his outstretched leg as she did so. Her handbag fell from it's grip in the nook of her elbow, and the clasp popped open, scattering her belongings amongst the undergarments. "Double _merde_ ," he added, and began to lift the display. As soon as it was back upright, he reached for the nearest of Fleur's belongings to hand to her.

It just happened to be a pack of ribbed condoms. Now it was Fleur's turn to be embarrassed.

"How the hell did we get into this mess?" Charlie asked playfully, as Fleur stashed the condoms and the remainder of her possessions back into her handbag.

"I 'ave no idea," Fleur replied, combing her hair out of her face. "I suppose it 'ad something to do with you following me around work all day."

Charlie looked mortified. "I wasn't—I wasn't _following_ —well, not in a weird, stalker way, anyway," he took a breath, and Fleur cocked an eyebrow, waiting for his response. "I recognised you, and I wanted to come over and say hi."

"Well, why didn't you?"

Charlie grinned. "Dunno. I guess I thought it would be weird, seeing as you used to go out with Bill."

Fleur waved a hand dismissively. "Bah! You could 'ave come at any time, clumsy boy."

"Okay. I suppose...I wanted to ask if you wanted to grab a coffee?"

The corners of Fleur's mouth twitched into a suddenly shy smile. Secretly delighted, she shifted her handbag a little further up her shoulder. "I suppose you owe me for 'ze embarrassment."


End file.
